Post navigation

A Letter, To You.

This is the light you didn’t believe I bought at Walmart. Which you then made me feel bad for buying at Walmart. This is the light that turned on when the room was too bright and we only wanted to speak in the dim. Tinker Bell was a third party in our conversation that night, observing our strength in friendship.

This is the sign that you noticed in the middle of the street, that you didn’t want either of us to walk past without acknowledging. We stopped and stared at its beauty for twenty minutes and I even remember the way your eyes squinted as you rescued its memory into your cellphone. Before encountering this sign we sat in a field, and listened. To everything and anything that touched our sphere of grass–the leaves sparkling like droplets of fall, the sky booming in its permanence, and the wind comforting anything that feared.

This is the watch you admired, as I admired you. Your interest in something so small but with so much to tell. And you weren’t looking at this object for the time, but to rather have a time. A time of observation, following an expression. To you this was speaking something that thundered in truth, and radiated in its necessity for meditation.

And this is my shoe that you will later think of immediately when reminiscing about my room. You commented upon its apparent ‘comfinesss’ each time we entered and every time we left. Except you never said it out loud, I just knew.

And this is the face we ardently tried to have wear my green mask. It basically told us ‘it wasn’t it’s style,’ as after twenty attempts (at this point both of us on the floor laughing in waves of hysterical bliss) it still wouldn’t fit upon it’s eyes. You then asked me where I bought this piece of art, and I replied with my first expression to you of my love for the magical land of Marthas Vineyard.

And lastly my friend, the watercolors. The water colors we spent hours in our respective settings thinking about how much we needed to use together. To continue painting with the light, wherever we walk together on this earth.